


Til I Hit the Ground

by KimliPan



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Al Dente Kylux, Chaptered, First Kiss, Gloves, Grown Ass Men being idiots, Hux is Not Nice, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Sexual Tension, Soft Kylux, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimliPan/pseuds/KimliPan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being forced to endure Kylo Ren is awful. Being stuck in an elevator with him is even worse. </p><p>(Alternative Title: Both of These Assholes Are Dumb)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disavowal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaperoned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaperoned/gifts).



> I never got my Trash Town welcome basket! Guess I'll just have to keep indulging by myself. 
> 
> This was originally meant to be finished as a birthday gift to [novacorps](http://novacorps.tumblr.com/) but that did not happen because I am human scum. But here is the first part! Late, but present!
> 
> Soft Kylux to come in the later two chapters. It's horrible. Awful. Disgusting.

**01 Minute**

At five seconds, it was noteworthy.

At ten seconds, annoying.

As they watched the elevator doors fail to open at thirty seconds, the silence between them hung heavy. The question pressed on Hux: _Is this thing working?_ That was when he started pressing the call button. No answer. No bell, no sound.

He held the door-open button, even pressed the emergency-stop. He put his personal identifier in the pad on the wall to try an override the command panel, but it failed to respond to him – and the door, at a full minute, stayed shut.

"Why don't I just-"

"I will not have you damaging the doors," Hux snapped, having managed to forget Ren was standing directly behind him. He did not care about whatever poorly thought through, impulsive idea he might have.  

Hux heard a breath come out hard through that mask. Probably some kind of sigh, petulant, irritated, but he didn't care about that either. The thing he cared about in particular was not being trapped inside an elevator with the one man on his ship who would not take him seriously.

"Just sit tight. Someone should respond," he said, more for himself than for Ren, holding his finger on the call button.

Ren stepped back.

 

**03 Minutes**

When the elevator was moving and they were both headed for a destination, their shared awkward silence had a script. It had a finite time limit. In such a case, facing silently forward with his hands behind his back wasn't so much _pretending to be alone_ or _ignoring Kylo Ren_ as much as it was _following the rules of elevator etiquette_.

Without the proper excuse of an abbreviated interaction, however, it became increasingly obvious that his back toward Ren was very much a slight. Especially as it became increasingly obvious that whatever problem was going on with the elevator was an actual Problem.

"I don't think they're responding, General."

Ren's voice was calm from behind him, filtered through the mask in a lilted sing-song. As if he's curious, amused even. It was intentionally provocative, testing Hux's very patience.

But Hux didn't care to pass tests. He cared for efficiency, and he cared for a response from the fucking mechanics on the other end of the comms because _what the hell was he paying them for?_

"I hadn't. Noticed."

He said it through his teeth.

The fabric of Ren's cloak rustled as he shifted or something behind Hux's back, but Hux had yet to turn and face him. This elevator ride would end soon enough. He would not break so easily.

He stabbed his finger against the call button again.

 

**07 Minutes**

When Hux could no longer deny the lack of response on the comms, he squared his shoulders and leveled his chin with the ground. Then, he calmly raised one hand and slapped his palm against the elevator doors.

One slap did nothing. He slapped a second time, harder. Then, after a moment, both hands were raised and he was slapping it repeatedly.

 _It's not undignified,_ he told himself. _I'm knocking_ , exactly as if he were knocking on someone's door. He certainly was not slapping it too hard in frustration, and when he shouted,

"Anyone out there?"

It was with utmost dignity, his voice only raised as high as it was to ensure he could definitely be heard through the heavy, soundproofed doors.

"There's not," Ren answered from behind him. Hux turned fast, having gotten used to Ren (thankfully?) letting him stew in his own frustration in perfect silence, saving for what Hux pretended not to identify as laughter.

Ren continued. Hux eyes narrowed.

"I'm getting tired of waiting. I have somewhere I need to be. Let me-"

"And where's that?" Hux snapped. "What even _is it_ that you do all day?" As he pressed his lips together to try and regain his composure, he felt his cheeks ache. A reminder that he'd been frowning since the doors closed. Being around Ren often resulted in wrinkle-lines – on his forehead, between his knit brows, and the corners of his mouth. This – _tension_ between them, it wore on him, made it hard for him to hold onto himself. Remember his manners.

Ren didn't answer, not right away. And Hux couldn't even tell if he was listening under than damned tin can or not, so Hux went on, ruffled by the silence,

"You're never around when you're needed, and yet you're always _looming_."

"When is it you _need_ me, General?" came Ren's metal reply. If Hux were more like him, he'd reach up and dent that mask. But he wasn't, so he didn't. And instead, he turned his full form to face Ren, feet planted firmly on the stationary elevator floor, and he leveled his eyes with that of the mask.

"If you're so concerned about _being somewhere_ then why don't you just—" he gestured vaguely to his own head "—tell someone we're stuck?"

Ren huffed, it could have been irritated or amused, Hux couldn't tell. "You have no idea how the force works, do you, General?" A blush creeped over Hux's cheeks. He didn't know, not really, though his ignorance was not willful. The science of it made no sense, and the logic was even further behind.

"You try to insult me while at least I try to have us removed from—" Hux gestured between them "— _this_."

Ren looked tense in the wake of that. His hands curled in at his sides as his arms shook, as if he'd been worked up this whole time. Maybe Hux had misread him.

"Is it not you who told me to _sit tight_?" he asked, sounding like a new hire or a freshly-promoted officer – like someone who didn't yet know how to read between the lines. And Hux thinks again that this palpable tension is that same weird _something_ that's always floating around them.

"Yes, well, I stand by that," Hux said as he turned around to try the call button once more. "You've caused enough damage already with your outbursts."

Behind him, Ren stayed silent.

 

**11 Minutes**

"Stop it," Hux snapped when he couldn't bear the silence between them any longer. He glared over his shoulder at Ren, whose back was pressed against the wall, all his weight on his flat feet too-far out as he looked up at the ceiling. When he brought his gaze down to Hux (probably, maybe – his eyes could be closed for all Hux knew), it gave him the impression of an off-duty recruit caught off guard.

A beat passed before he asked,

"Stop what?"

" _Breathing_ ," said Hux, his lip curled up in a sneer. "Does that thing even recycle the air, or are you just wheezing in your own stale breath?"

Ren pushed off the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Hux turned forward and tried punching his identifier in the pad again, knowing it wouldn't work. Then, he added casually,

"And anyway, it must be ridiculously hot in that thing."

He didn't know why he wanted Ren to take it off, but he did. And he also didn't know why Ren was staying back, and staying quiet. He assumed by now his light saber would be out and the walls of this place would be trashed – _which would have done nothing to open the doors_ , he thought irritably as if Ren had actually tried it and now they were arguing about it.

Ren still said nothing.

Hux turned around, a little put out by the silence.

"Is it not?" he asked, hesitant, curious, his voice a little higher than usual as he asked what he had tried to quiet. "Stale, that is. And hot." It was an attempt at sounding conversational. Natural. He knew without hearing Ren's response that it failed.

"It doesn't matter if it's stale or hot," he said, and while Hux couldn't see his face, he could hear the distaste in his voice.

"So it is, then."

"Such distractions are irrelevant."

"Of course." Hux turned back around and jabbed the useless ever-illuminated call button, the panic and dread of being trapped giving way to boredom. "But they _are_ distracting, are they not?"

A breath heaved from Ren's mask and Hux glanced over his shoulder to see what caused it. Ren was backed against the wall again, arms still crossed over his chest.

"Why does it interest you?"

Fair enough question. Hux wasn't sure why either. He looked Ren over, searching for any kind of clue as to what he was thinking, feeling, anything.

"Far be it from me to criticize someone for posturing, but it is a bit… _much_ ," he said, scooting back to lean against the wall beside Ren. He gazed up at the ceiling. "You have to admit."

Ren did not admit. Ren said nothing.

 

**15 Minutes**

Hux huffed, arms crossed over his chest as he pushed off the wall to stand in front of Ren.

"You're awfully quiet when you don't have an easy out," he said, hoping to get a rise. An argument would be better than this silent waiting. Even an argument with Ren, whose taunting he generally avoided.

Ren looked tense, and his mask turned ever-so-slightly toward Hux. At least the slightest inclination of acknowledgement let Hux know he hadn't fallen asleep in there.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ren asked, his voice strained. There was that tension again, and Hux leaned back though he didn't step away.

In the past, Hux had known plenty of difficult high-ranking officers, many with whom he shared a budding mutual animosity. One in particular, a muscular blonde with no real nuance, had a tendency to try and have Hux cited to his father whenever he broke protocol. More the fool he was, because what protocol Hux had a tendency to break, he learned from his father.

_Know the rules you're breaking. Never break them without reason._

That young, un-veted version of Hux was more likely to flout authority, and he did receive his fair punishment, but even with the growing care for vengeance that grew into victory he never once felt a pull of – _anxiety?_ – not anxiety, but something nervous around him.

It was different with Ren. This tension, it did things like made him bully Ren, then pull back after egging him on.

"Well?" asked Ren when the silence went on too long.

Hux paused even yet still, trying to get a read on Ren's stiffening shoulders.

"Just an observation. I suppose you only care to insult my integrity when you may easily walk away?" Nothing. "Or perhaps it's the potential for an audience, then. Again, this is not a commentary on the posturing." He crossed an arm over his stomach and stroked his chin as if he were trying to figure it out.

"And maybe you only care to antagonize me behind closed doors?" Ren snapped, and Hux barked a laugh, surprising even himself.

"Excellent word-choice," he said, moving away to rest his back against the wall once more. _Wishful thinking,_ he thought with a sneer. He heard a dull _clunk_ ask the back of Ren's mask fell back against the wall again. Hopefully this would be over soon.

 

**22 Minutes**

Hux managed to hold his tongue. It annoyed him that Ren had a bit of a point – since when did Hux come out of himself to initiate unnecessary conflict? He liked to think that kind of pettiness was beneath him, but something about being locked in a room as small as a closet with the only person on this ship who could get under his skin made him… _ruffled._

The silence was wearing at him, too.

But if Ren of all people could identify his irrational behavior, then he was undeniably out of line.

"You think I'll break the doors."

Hux turned his head to stare Ren down. Difficult to do to someone who was both taller than him and also concealed. His feet and knees were beginning to ache.

"I won't."

"I don't care to find out," said Hux.

Then the silence hung between them again, though this time it felt thicker.

 

**29 Minutes**

"Why are you keeping that thing on?" Hux asked, once he could no longer keep the question to himself. It came out in a sudden burst, and to recover his own orientation with himself, he went on to justify the question.

"It's completely private in here, and it's apparent we're going to be stuck for quite some time."

Ren, maddeningly, didn't answer. Hux had lost track of how he was supposed to be reading him – sometimes, he thought he was smug, other times angry. Right now, Hux had nothing.

He let a huff of breath out through his nose and shifted his weight, adjusting his hands behind his back so that he was gripping his wrist tightly beneath his glove.

"I ask for your sake. It seems… impractical."

"You know why I wear it."

"I don't, actually."

Hux frowned, looking up at the mask with a combination of both his continued irritation and a newfound curiosity. That answer was honest, he didn't know. He didn't quite care enough to ask, but if the information was offered to him…

Ren didn't offer him the information.

Instead, he reached up and pushed the hood off his helmet. Hux clenched his jaw, feeling suddenly restless though he didn't know why. A moment later, the helmet was off, revealing a small amount of sweat on Ren's brow.

His hair was moist. A side-effect of the helmet. Hux rarely wore his hat for long enough to have the same effect; it was ceremonial. Ren's helmet was not – it was standard. Hux found himself thinking about regulation and hair moisture when he was faced with the discomfort of seeing Ren's face.

It was oddly… raw. Raw? Yes, raw was the right word. His eyes looked red around the edges, like he was holding back his anger, had been for about half an hour.

Hux's eyes trained on Ren's nose when he realized looking at his _rawness_ was difficult – like looking into someone's personal possessions, private, confidential.

 _This is stupid,_ Hux told himself, scowling as he tried to get a handle on whatever was happening in the pit of his gut. He shifted his weight to the side and turned his head away, eyes narrowed.

"You're being cagey."

"Very well," Hux snapped, speaking over Ren. "You look like you feel better."

"You would only know that if you had the nerve to look at me."

Hux, for a moment, was speechless. His eyes snapped up and they stared at each other for a few seconds before Hux turned his head to face forward. He should probably stop pushing Ren, lest he guide him into one of his tantrums. Yes. That was why he should leave Ren alone – and not at all because he was suddenly difficult to face.

 

**31 Minutes**

Seconds dragged on. One became two, two became five, and five became ten. To Hux, it felt like minutes. He was awkward, red-faced, from the tips of his hears all the way down his back. Ren's exposed countenance made Hux feel like he was standing next to someone changing, half-naked sensitive areas exposed.

Needing something to do, he stepped forward and pressed the call button _yet again_ , scoffing when the button didn't even light up this time. If his luck this afternoon meant anything, he suspected the lights overhead would be out soon enough.

He folded his hands behind his back once more. As he stepped back, however, Ren startled him. A large hand gripped tight onto Hux's arm, turning his body.

"I removed my helmet," he said, then, darkly, " _For your sake._ " Hux had known his persistent argument wasn't exactly convincing, and he cringed inwardly as his own line was thrown back at him.

His face reddened deeper and he narrowed his eyes on Ren's; the contact sent a jolt through him that twitched in his lower gut like excitement.

 _Odd,_ he thought, his newfound curiosity returned as Ren forced them into this newer conflict that seemed rooted in that growing _something_ that always hovered around them when they were together. _What is this?_

"Why don't you remove your gloves?"

"What?"

The question left Hux fast, and he was embarrassed by how genuine his own surprise was. Ren let go of his arm, but the release sent Hux backwards a step, reeling from the odd request.

No sooner was he released, however, than he felt an invisible pull at his arm making him stumble clumsily forward, landing his forearm in Kylo Ren's grip. His gloved hand was raised between them; Ren's grip tightened.

"How _dare_ you," Hux hissed, but he chose to wait for Ren to release him rather than yanking his arm away – in part because he knew Ren had him beat in physical strength, and he didn't want to look any more foolish than he already felt. "How _dare_ you use that on me."

"Remove it," Ren said, his grip like a vice. The skin over his palm began to tingle, as if it was bulging with too much blood trapped in there.

"What point does this serve?" he asked, squeezing his hand into a fist. The hand hanging lamely at his side flexed so his fingers were taut; he had no idea what to prepare himself for.

" _For your sake._ "

Hux's body chilled as Ren's face heated into a boiling red. He could argue compliance from fear – not a direct fear, he didn't believe Ren would harm him truly. But in this instance, it did seem the other man held the power, and if Hux didn't want to deal with a fit, then he'd have to comply.

But Hux was not in the habit of lying to himself. More than anything else, he was curious. Where was this going? What sort of precedent was Ren setting? Why were his gloves comparable to that tin can on Ren's head?

After letting out a leveling breath, he reached up with his free hand and tugged his glove off one finger at a time. Seconds dragged on. One became two, two became five, and five became ten.

With his eyes on Ren's, he yanked the glove off between their faces, lips pursed in a defiant frown.

"Does this please you?"

Ren released his hand, eyes in thin slits. "The other," he said, and this time, the command made Hux blush.

_Oh._

This was…

He had to be reading this wrong. He couldn't be right. But a sudden realization hit him, and he realized the jolt of excitement he received, the awkward stiffness between them, their constant bickering, his inability to look at Ren's face without a deep level of discomfort…

This _thing_ around them.

It was _intimate_ in nature.

_Oh._

"No." Better to deny than indulge. Thinking on Ren's commands in this new light sent a very different shiver downward, one that he did not care to try to hide or explain. Therefore, he would not indulge.

He folded his hands behind his back. The bare hand felt cold behind him; he flexed it closed and open a few times trying to feel less awkward.

Ren moved an arm upward with his fingers toward Hux, but before the hand was even up, Hux snapped,

"Don't you _dare_." It had not been a pleasant feeling. Ren's hand lowered, and he looked odd a moment, his brows furrowed, eyes downcast.

A huff of breath. Ren looked… embarrassed? Shy? Hux tilted his head to the side, curious as to where his resolve vanished.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, moving his helmet to hold it over his stomach with both hands.

Hux thought maybe that thing that just happened between them was a controlled tantrum. He snorted.

"I don't care," Hux said, turning to face forward. He pressed the call button again with his limp glove crushed beneath his fisted fingers.

The overhead lights went out.


	2. False-Consensus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days ago, [brood-mother](http://brood-mother.tumblr.com/) coined the term [al dente kylux](http://brood-mother.tumblr.com/post/149394732500/i-cant-do-soft-kylux-i-really-cant-like-i-can) and I _really_ want it to stick. I can think of no better way to describe what this has become.
> 
> And dearest [novacorps](http://novacorps.tumblr.com/), maybe if you're good, I'll have finished this by your next birthday.

**38 Minutes**

Time couldn't move slower. If it did, they'd have gone backwards to the beginning and Hux would have taken the goddamn stairs.

It didn't make sense, why they were still in there. He could think of no reason why the repair bay hadn't noticed the elevator stopped working, or worse, that the comms to it were cut off. Or that the power had shorted. Was there trouble elsewhere on the ship? Could Ren tell him if that was the case?

But Hux couldn't ask him.

This… _thing_ between them expanded to the size of the elevator and it enveloped them, ensnaring Hux's senses, making him _fester_ in the tension and agitation. With the lights out save for a dim glow coming from the elevator console, Hux found himself sensitive to every petty huff, every little movement Ren made. Every little foot shuffle. Every shifting of the grip on his helmet. Every combing of his fingers through his hair.

Hux ran his thumb back and forth along the buds of his fingertips, his glove pocketed now.

Would someone realize he was missing soon? Maybe they had already. So when would someone get this damn thing open? How had this even happened, since when had anyone on his ship ever been stuck in an elevator? He was supposed to be at a meeting with some of his most trusted officers. Surely they were looking for him, wondering where he went. Why he was even more than a few minutes late, let alone a full half hour.

A dull _thmp_ sounded as Ren let his weight fall against the wall again. Hux huffed.

"This just figures," he said, turning to face him in the feint light; it made looking at him easier, at least. He was… softer. "All of it."

Hux made a note that he was a lot more physically expressive without the helmet as Ren groaned and covered his face with his hand. Then he was sliding down the wall so that he was crouching on the floor with his elbows on his knees.­­

Right. All this standing was getting tiring. As he watched Ren drop to the ground, he realized the ache growing in his own hips and heels and knees. There was… no harm in joining him? Right? With a stabilizing hand on the wall, he hoisted himself down to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"What is this?" Ren asked, his brows pinched as he pulled his head back, defensive. "Why do you keep mocking me?"

"Mocking you."

Hux scoffed and shook his head, moving so that his back rested on the elevator wall.

"I'm not mocking you," he decided to say when he caught Ren looking at him with an impassive frown, moist lips haloed by the soft barely-there lighting. It jolted him, reminded him what he was trying to ignore; he wondered if Ren could hear him thinking about it, if that's even how the force worked. _Why do you keep mocking me?_ As if sitting on the ground (that was not nearly as clean as it ought to be) alongside him was mocking him.

No, he had to be reading Hux's thoughts. Sensing the sexual frustration. Right?

He rested his un-gloved hand on his knee and looked down on it, thinking how odd it was that his hand was pale enough that he could see it in the darkness practically glowing against his dark synthetic trousers.

"You're taunting me."

Hux shrugged at that, not quite caring enough to try and understand whatever was happening in Ren's mind. He brought his bare hand up to look at it in the dim glow, turning it over in his sight.

He had an idea.

"Am I?"

A playful smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips; the darkness had somehow made him less reserved, less concerned with his form. The privacy made him comfortable. And Ren made him daring.

With his bare thumb and index, he pinched the tip of the other glove's finger, slowly bringing his eyes up to Ren's as he gave it a little tug.

"Tempting me," Ren went on, letting one knee sink to the ground with a dull thump. He set his helmet down.

"Interesting, if not a little over-dramatic," Hux said as he gave the glove another tug. It slid off with a satisfying rush of cool air. "You see this," he held the glove up, wiggling the fingers of his now-freed hand before tightening them into a fist, "as a temptation."

Was it a temptation? With his recent revelation, he couldn't lie to himself, couldn't make himself play dumb. But he had told himself to deny it, and now here he was, indulging.

_Why am I doing this?_

He dropped the glove in his lap. The landing was a dissatisfying wrinkle. Hux felt a heat wash over his shoulders and back, creeping up his neck and ears and cheeks. He had let their solitude make him senseless, and he felt like he'd gone too far.

Ren reached a hand out palm-up and looked at Hux expectantly.

 _Interesting,_ Hux thought again, once more allowing his curiosity to make him forget himself. He allowed it to guide him straight into Kylo Ren's plans. Extending his hand, he stabilized his breath and placed his palm over Ren's. He half-expected another vice grip of some sort, or for Ren to yank him forward to try and get the better of him. He was prepared for that.

But he wasn't prepared for Ren to gently rest his thumb over the top of Hux's fingers, bringing Hux's hand closer to just…

Just look at it.

Hux watched carefully as Ren turned Hux's hand over in his, brushing it over with the fingertips as if he were examining it in the dim button-light of the lift.

"Take yours off," Hux said, pulling his hand back. What were they doing? The command felt odd coming from himself, but he had no intention of being manhandled by the weathered leather of his battle-scarred gloves. This would happen on equal footing.

But what was odder than the command was when Ren complied. He looked at Hux then, almost as if he were… _nervous,_ (it was possible he was misreading) then pulled them off in a singular clumsy motion, before setting them on top of his helmet.

Hux returned his hand to Ren's. And Ren, like a child, took it close, ran his fingers over it as if the physical contact were a totally new experience. The air in the lift was beginning to feel stale and hot, and the heat and sweat of Ren's fingers didn't help that – but even so, Hux didn't hate it.

It was so odd. All of it. Not only what they were doing – touching each other, testing boundaries, behaving like strangers – but how it made him _feel_ as well. Like the usual tightness in his shoulders was softening, and the anxiety in his eternally clenched jaw was slackening. His chest was easing. Tightening, too, but in a different way.

And Hux felt like a fog had washed over him, like he was watching something unfold as he stood over the two of them with no control over his own body. There was a tingling in his legs, his arms, the top of his head, his heart and lungs and gut.

Then Ren pulled Hux's hand toward his face, and for a moment Hux thought he was going to kiss the tops of his fingers.

The threat of that mouth near his skin gave him a knee-jerk panic and he pulled his hand back and turned to lean with his back against the wall in silence. His face heated up and he was trying very hard not to acknowledge his heart beating so loudly he was _sure_ Ren could hear it.

Doing that had been a mistake.

 

**45 Minutes**

Hux longed for that solitary, angry silence from earlier. When the doors had just closed, and the biggest concern on his mind was whether or not Ren would blast through the doors with his light saber.

He could barely breathe as things were, was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Like Ren was too close to him, hogging all the space, all the air, breathing it in and spitting it back out, used and heavy. All he wanted to do was draw a line on the ground, tell Ren _you stay there and I stay here_ , but he found himself already wanting to cross over and – he didn't even know for what? What would he do when he got there? Throw himself into Ren's chest? Take his hands, touch his hair?

Certainly not _kiss_ him. Not that he'd been thinking about it. Thinking about Ren's lips, had they touched his knuckles. Warm, soft. Moist. Haloed by the gentle light of the console.

He scowled. This was definitely the worst thing that could have happened to him.

"This just figures," he said to himself as he tugged his gloves back on. To top it all off, he'd have to use the toilet soon.

Ren scoffed. "All of it," he said sourly, and, genuinely, that made Hux smile.

 

**49 Minutes**

"I'm sorry," Hux said once the silence closed in on him too tightly. He sensed Ren was about to speak, so he cut him off before he got too embarrassed.

"I won't say it again, so allow me to explain why before you piss me off."

If Ren _was_ going to say something, he didn't. Hux turned his head to look at him, sitting cross-legged with his helmet a considerable way away from him; Hux focused his eyes on the light reflecting from the black metal paint.

"When the doors didn't open, I behaved badly and took my frustration out on you. I apologize for nothing else than bad behavior." He wiped the bead sweat of he felt dripping down his brow with the back of his sleeve. "There you have it."

"Apology accepted."

Hux's eyes snapped up to see the sharp white of Ren's in the darkness. He frowned, not knowing what he expected – but certainly something more than that.

"And you?" he asked expectantly.

"My behavior was fine."

Hux thought of Ren force-pulling his arm, squeezing his wrist, bullying him into removing his glove. That was not _fine._ A little tickle of irritation reminded him that Hux had _provoked_ him, but he pushed that aside and reminded himself that Ren was prone to lashing out and that wasn't his responsibility.

"Fine," Hux repeated, rising to his feet to use the console again in the hopes that this would soon be over.

Ren, too, rose to his feet, and Hux had to fight not to give him the satisfaction of turning to face him.

But that, apparently, was not what Ren wanted. Or intended.

As he stabbed the call button, Ren startled him. Two large hands moved in on his waist, and suddenly there was a broad chest against his back, trapping him where he was with his finger on the button. His whole body stiffened, from his shoulders and his back to his chest and his gut.

"You don't want to talk about it," Ren said, his face moving in close alongside Hux's. His lips brushed against Hux's ear and Hux wanted to push back, to shove Ren off of him, but he did nothing. Could do nothing. Felt paralyzed by the shock that this was even actually happening.

"I do," Ren went on, his lips pressing gently against Hux's cheek – like a kiss?

"Get off of me," Hux whispered, eyes narrowed. "Right now."

"I can feel you wanting me."

"Such _distractions_ are irrelevant," Hux snapped, finally gathering the nerve to turn around and push Ren off of him. Ren's face softened, as if he'd only just realized he was overstepping, but Hux was livid. "You may not touch me again." Saying it like that made his scowl deepen; it wasn't what he wanted. "And if you-"

A high-pitched ring hollowed the elevator and Hux froze, caught between the comms and _discussing issues_ with Ren; Hux shut up so he could respond to the call, but Ren took the silence as opportunity to argue.

"You don't deny it, and I know it's true, I can-"

" _Engineering._ "

"- _feel_ it."

Hux wasn't sure which was more annoying – the dismissive response on the _emergency call_ line, or Ren's insistence on speaking over it. He put a hand up to silence him and turned his head to the side to answer,

"Lift in corridor FX." He intended to see if they could work it out themselves, having long-since decided that they were slacking and therefore needed to prove themselves. If nothing else, someone should certainly have tried to use the elevator and reported it when the doors failed to open _._

There was a pause. Ren took in a breath, but Hux shot him a sharp glare which Ren took in stride. It was followed, then by the grainy intercoms and a tone of surprise.

" _General Hux? Is that you? The whole ship is looking for you, Sir!_ "

Hux let out a quick sigh, then repeated himself with thinly veiled patience. "Lift in corridor FX. You will send a technician. Kylo Ren and I have been shut in here for almost an hour." Still, he was reassured by the concern.

" _Right away, Sir!_ "

"You can't ignore me-"

"Quiet,"Hux snapped in a whisper; the last thing he wanted was an argument over something as irrelevant as _attraction_ taking place on the public channels. Knowing his luck, Phasma would be listening.

" _Someone is on their way._ "

Satisfied, Hux half turned, slammed the call button to end it, then looked to Ren once more. With his hand still over the console, he could barely see him even with his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He let out a breath, not sure what to do, and his chest tightened as he waited for Ren to speak.

There could be no _harm_ in indulging this, he reasoned. Nothing beneficial would come of it, surely, but he could see no endgame where they hated each other any more than they already did. (A nasty little reminder in the back of his head chimed in, like a red-flag alert, _you don't hate him,_ then, worse, _he doesn't hate you._ )

The stillness between them was only momentary, and Hux was practically _longing_ for Ren to do or say anything – when at last the larger man swooped in over him, pushing Hux's back against the console so his hand slipped away, moving to rest awkwardly on the expanse of Ren's chest.

Ren's still bare hands grabbed his face, and he moved in close but missed, kissing Hux first just above his upper lip before fumbling his way down to his mouth where the contact there was hard, heavy and damp.

The mechanical hum of a functional lift sounded as the overhead lights flickered on, but Hux's eyes were closed. His fingers grabbed at the edge of the frabric at Ren's shoulder, the only place they could take hold, and Hux held him there against him.

Then, he opened his eyes. The light was blinding. He lowered his head, turned it away, and made no effort to push Ren off of him.

"That's enough," he said, sure to keep his voice low. For Ren, for himself, in case the comms were on, in case someone was just outside – any reason worked. The truth, though, was that the kiss had knocked the strength out of him and he wasn't sure why. He felt oddly _powerless._ It was not a good feeling.

"General-"

"I said that's enough."

" _Hux_."

He slipped out of Ren's hold and stood facing the doors, anticipating a quick and easy rescue. The very word _rescue_ made his skin crawl, and he hoped to whoever was listening that he was the only one who saw it as such.

"Not a word of this," he said. "To anyone." _Not even Snoke_ , he thought with an edge of resentment, though something in him told him Snoke would find out whether or not Ren said it.

Through the door he could hear the muffled sounds of that attempted rescue. When he turned back to check on his fellow hostage, Ren's gloves were back on and he was reaching for his helmet. He huffed out through his nose, squared his shoulders at the door again, and felt a bead of sweat returning to his brow.

When the doors slid open, the air that came in was fresh and cool.

Even so, he longed for just a few more moments in that elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not over yet, fam! Will they or won't they -- the world may never know!


End file.
